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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27701636">The Dead Stay Dead</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/commanderlurker/pseuds/commanderlurker'>commanderlurker</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Cats, the V is silent [14]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Canonical Character Death, Dismemberment, Gen</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-07 04:01:14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,067</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27701636</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/commanderlurker/pseuds/commanderlurker</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“Lana, can I borrow your lightsaber?” Cats asks. <br/>“Whatever for?”<br/>Cats forces herself to look Lana in the eye. “I need to make sure Vaylin can’t come back.”</p>
<p>Valyin is dead. Cats needs to make sure she stays that way.</p>
<p>Note the archive warning.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Cats, the V is silent [14]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1160342</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Dead Stay Dead</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Let’s just ignore canon for a moment and let Cats catch some breathing room after that bastard fight.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Vaylin lies on the ground. She's dead. Cats made sure of it. Cats and Lana and Theron and Senya. Arcann, too, she supposes. He should be dead too, but that's not a fight Cats can have right now. She stands at a respectable distance, hands still curled around her blasters in case she needs them.</p>
<p>Lana joins her. Her lightsaber is on her hip, not in her hand. Maybe the force has told her that Vaylin is dead.</p>
<p>"It's over," Lana says.</p>
<p>"Not yet." There's one thing Cats needs to do. She'll give Senya and Arcann the time they need with their girl, then she's Cats'.</p>
<p>*</p>
<p>Cats wanders into the war room, knot in her stomach. It's all but empty, everyone gone to the cantina to celebrate, or to bed. It's been a long day. But Lana's still there, and Theron.</p>
<p>“Lana, can I borrow your lightsaber?” Cats asks.</p>
<p>“Whatever for?”</p>
<p>Cats forces herself to look Lana in the eye. “I need to make sure Vaylin can’t come back.”</p>
<p>Lana’s hand rests on her hilt. “Do you want my help?”</p>
<p>Cats shakes her head. “No. I need to do this myself.”</p>
<p>“What about Senya?” Arcann’s name hangs unsaid.</p>
<p>“She’s said her goodbyes, and she can say them again when I’m done.”</p>
<p>Lana’s expression hardens, and for a moment she thinks Lana will say no, or come up with another objection, but she hands over lightsaber. “May the force serve you well.”</p>
<p>She makes the mistake of looking in Theron's direction. He offers his aid with the lift of his brow. She shakes her head and leaves before she chickens out and asks for help.</p>
<p>*</p>
<p>She lays Vaylin on the table. Just stares at her. Her skin is already waxy-pale. All the veins are purple from the force lightning that ripped though her body. Her tattoos are black, raised like scars. Robes ripped and charred, holes from blasters.</p>
<p>"Sorry, Vaylin. You deserved better." Cats activates Lana’s lightsaber. It hums, glows red. She brings it forward. The hum shifts in tone. She’s not used a lightsaber before. Is it like a vibroblade, but cooler? She hesitates. Her mouth is dry. She can’t take her eyes off this girl. Vaylin was just a girl.</p>
<p>She starts with Vaylin’s head. Slices through cleanly. It doesn’t roll off the table. Just thunks to one side, face turned towards Cats. No weird force shit comes out of the body, not that Cats can tell. Arms next. She cuts them at the shoulder, the elbow, the wrist. She dismembers every finger, too.</p>
<p>Slicing the waist in half needs more pressure. She stops before she cuts through the table. There’s not much blood, and for the most part the intestines don’t ooze. The lightsaber cauterizes the cuts. That’ll be why Cats’ guts didn’t all come tumbling out when Arcann stabbed her. The smell though. Burnt, dead flesh. She might hurl.</p>
<p>Legs cut at the hip, knee, ankle. She doesn’t bother taking off Vaylin’s boots to cut her toes. Toes are never a threat.</p>
<p>The abdomen is too big. There’s too much there. Cats holds the lightsaber vertical, pushes through Vaylin’s guts. Gives her a scar to match Cats’ own. Then she goes further, draws up the ribcage, cracking it open. She slices right up to Vaylin’s neck.</p>
<p>She reaches in, pulls out her heart, really has to tug to break the arteries. Holds it in her hand. It’s cool. Wet. Big.</p>
<p>Still.</p>
<p>Cats squeezes it, thinking she can make it burst. Blood spurts out the arteries, covering her hand and shirt, the table, the floor. The muscle doesn’t tear. She squeezes harder, harder, Vaylin’s heart bulging against the pressure, wet and slimy and firm, oozing between her fingers, but still it doesn’t burst. She grits her teeth and <em>squeezes</em> again, growls, yells, “<em>Why won’t you fucking die?</em>” The heart doesn’t listen.</p>
<p>Blood soaks into her singlet, making her skin damp. Tears stream down her cheeks. She drops the lightsaber. It clatters on the floor, blade shimming off. Vaylin’s heart stays clamped in Cats’ fist, squelching, dripping.</p>
<p>She should do the same to Arcann. Slice him open and choke his heart while it still beats in his chest. One minute for every year he took away from her. Watch the life ebb from his eyes then throw his body to scavenging animals.</p>
<p>But Arcann isn’t Vaylin. Pressed from the same mold, but he wasn't twisted, tortured, bent to breaking, snapped from all sanity. He wasn't stolen from his mother because he was too powerful, too dangerous, <em>too much</em>.</p>
<p>“You still hated me,” Cats cries. Vaylin's bodiless head stares back. “I’m not giving you a free pass. You needed to die. But it shouldn’t have gone this far.”</p>
<p>She sobs for Senya's loss. For her years of fear, for the terror Vaylin inflicted on her own people. She sobs for the little girl who didn't know any better.</p>
<p>Valkorian once told Cats that Vaylin was his favourite child. If she was his favourite, how could he have done <em>that </em>to her?</p>
<p>Tears mingle with blood. The room stinks.</p>
<p>She places Vaylin’s heart back in her chest, then takes it out again. Surely it won't stitch itself back in and start beating again, but she doesn’t know how the force works and isn’t going to take any risks. That’s why she’s here, mutilating Vaylin’s body.</p>
<p>She shoves all the limbs--cold and stiff now--into a crate. Puts the chest and guts in another. The head in a third. The hood slips free, revealing Vaylin’s scalp. Shaved. No hair. Was that Vaylin’s choice? Her habit? Or a hangover from her <em>treatment</em> on Nathema?</p>
<p>Cats closes the lids on all three boxes, locks them. She’ll burn everything, then get Lana to do something sithy to them to keep them locked. Forever.</p>
<p>Blood prints on the boxes. She turns her palms up. Red. Her black singlet damp. Grey pants--well, nothing gets blood out. She wipes herself off as best she can, retrieves Lana’s lightsaber, and turns her back on Vaylin for the last time.</p>
<p>*</p>
<p>Vaylin’s ashes lay scattered across Odessen, her body dispersed, locked up safe and sound with the force. One day someone might hear the rumour of Valkorian's daughter - a treasure hunting sith, perhaps - and come looking. If they have any sense, they'll leave this ground undisturbed.</p>
<p>But treasure hunting sith never let the dead stay dead.</p>
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